That's a wrap for Sage and Alaric's story! Thank you so much for taking this bumpy ride with me! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
We'll see a bit more of Sage and Alaric in Alexander's story, coming up next right here on this thread.
The Lycan Heir's Destiny
"His violet gaze locks with mine, power crackling between us like lightning before a storm. 'I was born to rule a kingdom,' he growls, backing me against the ancient stone wall, 'but fate made me yours.' His touch blazes across my skin, healing and burning in equal measure. 'Why must you tempt me like this?' he demands, fury and desire warring in his eyes. Before I can answer, his mouth claims mine in a kiss of raw possession and rage—a battle neither of us can afford to lose, yet neither will surrender."
As heir to the Lycan throne, Alexander Sterling carries the weight of an ancient prophecy on his shoulders. With his twenty-fifth birthday approaching, he must take a mate before claiming his crown. The answer seems clear when Selene—a princess from a powerful foreign pack—arrives with knowledge of the prophecy that seems destined to unite their bloodlines.
But does fate have other plans?
When Alexander meets Lyra, a healer from a hidden community his ancestors once hunted to extinction, their instantaneous mate-bond shatters everything he thought he knew. Torn between prophecy and destiny, Alexander must make a devastating choice: reject his true mate for the good of his kingdom or betray his kingdom for the sake of his own heart.
As enemies circle and political alliances unravel, Alexander's struggle to control his unprecedented powers—both Alpha dominance and healing gifts—reaches a breaking point. With the future of the entire Lycan world resting on his shoulders, his darkest days are yet to come.
Some bonds transcend duty. Some fate cannot be denied. Will he be strong enough to make the right choice? Or will he fail and watch his kingdom fall?
The Lycan Heir's Destiny will start serializing tomorrow so stay tuned to this thread! Also consider checking out the latest in the Legend Of Glass Lake series, "Not Their Luna" updating now!
Once again, I can't say thank you enough from the bottom of my heart to all my lovely readers!
Much Love,
Cara
Alexander I jolt awake, sweat soaking through my silk sheets, heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to escape. The nightmare clings to me, fragments of images still burning behind my eyes—my body tearing in two, one half glowing with healing light, the other consumed by Alpha power, both halves reaching for each other but never connecting."Just a dream," I mutter, dragging a hand down my face.Except it doesn't feel like just a dream. It feels like a warning.The morning light filters through the royal blue curtains of my chambers, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. Twenty-four years old, and I still wake up terrified like a pup. Some heir to the Lycan throne I am.A knock sounds at the door, three quick raps I recognize immediately."Enter," I call, pushing myself up against the ornate headboard.My father's Beta, Garrett, steps in, his face a carefully composed mask that doesn't quite hide his concern. He's been looking at me like that more often late
AlexanderThe training yard is empty at this hour except for Dominic, who's setting up practice dummies with methodical precision. He looks up as I approach, a grin spreading across his face."Well, if it isn't His Royal Grumpiness," he calls. "Come to beat the bad mood out of yourself?"Despite everything, I feel myself smiling. Dominic has been my shadow since we were pups, the son of my father's most trusted warrior, trained from birth to be my Beta. Unlike everyone else, he's never treated me like I'm made of glass—or nitroglycerin."Something like that," I reply, shrugging off my formal jacket and rolling up my sleeves. "I need to hit something that won't complain to the council about it.""Rough breakfast?" He tosses me a wooden practice sword.I catch it with one hand. "The usual. 'Take a mate, fulfill the prophecy, save the kingdom.'""Just another Tuesday, then." He positions himself across from me, sword at the ready. "The Northern delegation arrived.""So I heard." I circle
LyraI press my hands to Mrs. Hadley's forehead, letting my energy seek out the infection that's been ravaging her body for days. The other healers tried traditional remedies—herbal infusions, poultices, even bloodletting—but the fever persisted. Now it falls to me, as always when conventional methods fail."Easy," I murmur as she whimpers. "I'm going to help you."Closing my eyes, I visualize the infection as a dark cloud in her blood. Most healers in our enclave work with their hands alone, but I've always seen illness differently—not just as something to push away, but as something to transform. I don't just channel healing energy; I redirect the sickness itself.My fingers tingle as I guide the infection, changing its nature rather than fighting it directly. Under my palms, Mrs. Hadley's skin cools, her breathing steadies. When I open my eyes, her face has regained its color, the angry flush of fever replaced by the pink of health."It's done," I tell her relieved husband. "She'll
LyraThe eastern border of our territory lies closest to civilization—though "close" still means a half-day's trek through dense forest. I travel light, wearing the simple brown clothing that will help me blend in if I encounter outsiders. The herbs Elder Thalia gave me hang in a pouch around my neck, their scent both comforting and grounding.By midday, I reach the ridge that marks our territorial boundary. From here, I can see the sprawling royal lands in the distance, the castle spires just visible on the horizon. I've only seen the castle in drawings—a forbidden place where those who would exterminate us reign.I settle behind a fallen log, prepared to watch and wait. Hours pass with nothing but the usual forest sounds—birds calling, small animals rustling in the underbrush. Just as I'm considering changing position, voices drift up from the path below."—sure they're still in these parts?" a male voice asks. "It's been generations.""The old texts are specific," a second voice ans
AlexanderThe Choosing Gala preparations transform the palace into a frenzy of activity. Servants hurry through corridors with armfuls of decorations, chefs bark orders in the kitchens, and the royal tailor makes last-minute adjustments to my formal attire—a midnight blue suit with silver embroidery that matches the royal colors.I stand still as he fusses with the collar, my mind elsewhere. Since the formal welcoming ceremony yesterday, I've been unable to shake the strange sensation I felt when meeting Princess Selene. Not a mate bond, but something significant. Something that demands my attention."Your Highness?" The tailor's voice breaks through my thoughts. "If you could turn, please."I oblige mechanically, catching sight of Dominic lounging in the doorway."Don't you look dashing," he drawls. "The eligible bachelorettes will be swooning.""Exactly what I need," I mutter. "Unconscious potential mates."The tailor suppresses a smile as he steps back to assess his work. "I believe
Alexander Back in my chambers, I relay what I've learned to Dominic as I prepare for the Gala."Two children," he repeats, frowning. "That explains why there's been so much interest in Elara lately.""Interest from whom?" I ask sharply."Various factions. Nothing concerning yet, but more attention than usual." He helps me with the formal jacket, straightening the silver epaulettes. "What do you make of Princess Selene's interpretation?"I consider the question carefully. "It's convenient. Too convenient, perhaps. Her bloodline being exactly what the prophecy requires? The timing of their arrival with this new information?" I shake my head. "But the text itself felt genuine. Those passages about division, about being split apart—they resonated with something in me.""Your nightmares," Dominic guesses.I nod. "And apparently Elara's been having similar dreams.""That's... unsettling."A knock at the door interrupts us. My mother enters, resplendent in a gown of deep violet that matches
SeleneI stare at my reflection in the ornate mirror, schooling my features into pleasant neutrality while my mind races. The pull of Alexander's hand away from mine at the Gala last night plays on repeat in my thoughts. The look of confusion, perhaps suspicion, in his violet eyes. I was careless. Too eager. I let my guard drop."Focus," I whisper to myself, adjusting the silver circlet nestled in my braided hair. For this morning's garden tour with the queen, I've chosen a pale blue gown that emphasizes my eyes and complements the royal colors without attempting to claim them as my own. Every detail matters. Every choice is calculated.A sharp knock sounds at my chamber door."Enter," I call, already knowing who it will be.Magistra Vega strides in, her severe gray gown and tight silver bun reflecting her uncompromising nature. My instructor since childhood, the woman who molded me into the perfect instrument for my people's ambitions."Well?" she demands without preamble. "Report."I
SeleneI continue along the garden path alone, considering my next move. Securing Alexander's interest is proceeding well, despite his sister's suspicions. But I need to accelerate our connection without appearing desperate—a delicate balance.Lost in thought, I round a hedge to find Alexander himself seated on a stone bench, reading from an ancient text. He looks up, surprise flickering across his features before he composes himself and rises."Princess Selene," he greets me formally. "I didn't expect to find you here.""Your mother was giving a tour," I explain, "but was called away on royal business. She suggested I might encounter you here." I gesture to the book in his hands. "I hope I'm not interrupting.""Not at all." He hesitates, then adds, "I was actually reviewing the prophecy text your delegation brought."Perfect. "Have your scholars examined it?""They're doing so now." His penetrating gaze studies me. "It's remarkable how well-preserved it is, considering its age.""My a
Lyra "I'm glad," I tell Kieran, meaning it despite the complex emotions churning beneath. "That you have someone to talk to."He looks surprised, then grateful for my response. "It helps," he admits. "Figuring out my place here, now that everything's..." he gestures vaguely, "different."The word encompasses so much—our relationship, our community's situation, our very identities shifting in this new context. I reach across the table to touch his hand briefly."Some things aren't different," I tell him. "You're still important to me, Kieran. That hasn't changed."His eyes meet mine, conflict evident in their green depths. "Just important in a different way now."I can't deny the truth of this observation. Before I can respond, a palace page appears in the doorway, bowing slightly when he spots me."Healer Lyra, Prince Alexander requests your presence in the royal study. He says it's regarding tonight's ritual."Kieran withdraws his hand from beneath mine, the moment broken. "You shou
Lyra The royal sanctuary glows with morning light filtering through its glass walls, illuminating Queen Sage as she tends to rare plants with her own hands rather than delegating the task to servants. She looks up as I enter, a knowing smile touching her lips."Lyra," she greets warmly. "You look well this morning."Something in her tone tells me she's perfectly aware of why I might look "well," and I feel heat rise to my cheeks again. "Thank you for inviting me, Your Majesty.""Sage, please," she corrects, setting aside her gardening tools. "At least when we're alone. We're family now, after all."The casual acknowledgment of my place in her son's life—in the royal family—leaves me momentarily speechless. I've been so focused on the complications of court politics that I hadn't fully considered the simpler truth: I've gained not just a mate but a family connection.I kneel beside the spiral pattern of silver-blue blooms she’s tending, assessing their condition with a healer's eye. "
Lyra Sunlight streams through the curtains, painting warm patterns across the tangled sheets. I wake slowly, momentarily disoriented by unfamiliar surroundings before memories of the night flood back. The weight of Alexander's arm draped across my waist anchors me to both the present moment and the significance of what passed between us.I study his sleeping face, softer in repose than his usual royal mask allows. Dark lashes rest against cheeks still bearing faint marks where power surges manifested during our separation. The bond between us pulses with contented warmth, stronger and more stable than it's been since the temporary healing at the Cave of Whispers."You're staring," he murmurs without opening his eyes, a smile curving his lips."Just making sure you're real," I reply, surprised by the vulnerability in my own voice.His eyes open then, violet depths focusing on me with an intensity that makes my breath catch. "Very real," he assures me, pulling me closer. "And not going
KieranMira and I sit in silence for a while, watching stars appear one by one in the darkening sky. The distant sounds of palace life—guards changing shifts, servants carrying out evening duties—remind me how far we are from the simplicity of our forest home."I slept with someone else," I admit suddenly. "After Lyra left with Alexander that first time. One of the refugees from the northern settlement."Mira raises an eyebrow but doesn't interrupt."I thought it would help," I continue. "Thought maybe if I could just be with someone else, these feelings would fade or change or..." I shake my head. "It didn't work. Just made me feel worse, actually.""Because you were using them to try to forget Lyra," Mira points out. "That never works.""I know that now." I run a hand through my hair in frustration. "Gods, I'm a mess.""Yes, you are," she agrees with characteristic bluntness. "But that doesn't mean you can't figure your shit out."A sudden flush of anger rises in me. "Easy for you t
KieranThe palace gardens are annoyingly perfect—every shrub precisely trimmed, every flower arranged in meticulous patterns, like nature couldn't be trusted to look good without human interference. I find a secluded bench beneath a weeping willow, as far from the manicured beds as possible, and drop onto it with a heavy sigh.It's been two hours since I quietly slipped out of my chambers, unable to stay there any longer. The thin walls did little to muffle the sounds from Lyra's room, each soft gasp and whispered endearment like a knife twisting in my chest. I knew this was coming—hell, I practically pushed her toward the prince—but knowing something will hurt doesn't actually make it hurt less when it happens.I lean back, staring up through willow branches at the darkening sky. At least the stars look the same here as they do back home. Small comfort, but I'll take what I can get."Thought I might find you out here sulking."I don't need to look to recognize Mira's voice. She's bee
Alexander I’ve spent the entire day in bed with Lyra in my arms and I’ve never been more at peace. As twilight deepens outside the windows, we lie tangled together in comfortable silence. My fingers trace idle patterns on her bare shoulder while her head rests on my chest, directly over my heart. The bond between us hums with contented warmth, stronger and more stable than it's been since the temporary healing at the Cave of Whispers."The power surges have stopped," I observe quietly, realizing I haven't experienced a single manifestation since we came together.She props herself up on one elbow to look at me, her hair falling in a curtain around her face. "The intimate connection strengthened the bond's stability," she explains, unable to completely suppress her healer's analytical tendencies even now. "It's not permanent healing, but it's significantly reinforced the temporary measures."I can't help but laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Only you would provide a tec
Lyra The morning light is a soft intrusion, warm on my eyelids and tangled limbs. I wake in the circle of his arms, the night before replaying in vivid, lingering bursts. My body is a symphony of aches and satisfaction, reminders of just how thoroughly bonded we have become.I shift slightly, feeling the press of his skin against mine, and my breath catches at the heady intimacy of it. He murmurs something in his sleep and pulls me closer, as if even unconscious he can't bear for there to be any distance between us. The memory of our first night together blooms in my mind, a kaleidoscope of sensation and emotion.I remember the way he groaned my name as I collapsed against him, spent and breathless, the echo of our shared release reverberating through the bond."Does it hurt?" he asked.It had, but not in the way he meant. The stretch of him inside me was so overwhelming, so intense, but exquisitely good, and the moment I adjusted, it was as if my body couldn't get enough."More," I
Alexander I close the distance between us in one stride, my mouth finding hers with newfound urgency. Her response is immediate and enthusiastic, her body arching into mine as her arms wind around my neck. I tug gently at her loosened tunic, breaking the kiss only long enough to ask, "May I?"She nods, and I slip the garment from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. My breath catches at the sight of her—strong and lithe from years of healing work, skin pale gold in the afternoon light, the curve of her waist flaring into hips still covered by her leggings. The binding around her chest is utilitarian rather than decorative, but somehow all the more appealing for its practicality."You're beautiful," I tell her, because it's true and because the flush that spreads across her cheeks at the compliment is worth any momentary awkwardness."You're still wearing too many clothes," she points out, fingers already working at the fastenings of my shirt.I laugh, the sound rusty with dis
Alexander I stand in the doorway of Lyra's chambers, all my carefully prepared words evaporating at the sight of her. She looks exhausted but resolute, chin lifted slightly in that way I've come to recognize means she's bracing for an argument. The bond between us pulses with conflicting emotions—relief at our proximity battling with the lingering tension from our courtyard confrontation."Can I come in?" I ask, my voice softer than I intended.She nods, stepping back to allow me entry. I close the door behind me, grateful for the privacy after our too-public disagreement earlier."I owe you an apology," I begin, pride giving way to more important priorities. "My reaction to your return was..." I search for the right word."Possessive? Accusatory? Completely unfair?" she supplies, though the slight curve of her lips takes some sting from the words."All of the above," I admit with a rueful smile. "I was worried sick, Lyra. The bond separation, the power surges, the reports of Vega's a